Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Colombia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Siglo XX to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
Ornette Coleman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Half Japanese,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Model 500,
Jeff Lynne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Copeland,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Flag,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Massinfluence,
The Durutti Column,
Skriet,
Camouflage,
Chrome,
Boredoms,
Althea and Donna,
Radiohead,
China Crisis,
Tom Boy,
World's Most,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra,
Stetsasonic,
The Young Rascals,
Heaven 17,
Laurel Aitken,
Spoonie Gee,
Maleditus Sound,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Letta Mbulu,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultra Naté,
A Certain Ratio,
Fela Kuti,
Bush Tetras,
Lightning Bolt,
The Seeds,
Robert Hood,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
Loose Ends,
Quantec,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.